


Don't Stand So Close To Me

by themysticalsong



Series: Tumblr Prompts [31]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3221444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is young- so, so young. So much more beautiful than anyone he could ever imagine. So clever. Best amongst her peers.</p><p>She is also his student.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Stand So Close To Me

She is young- so, so young. So much more beautiful than anyone he could ever imagine. So clever. Best amongst her peers.

She is also his student.

Matt tries not to pay any attention to the way she looks at him- blue green eyes scanning him from head to toe- as if mentally undressing him. As if she is a predator studying its prey before she swallows him alive. It has only been a few months since he started teaching her grade, and this is how she has always looks at him.

His young Ms. Kingston.

 _No_. Not _his_. Just young Ms. Kingston.

Its important to maintain that difference; maintain that distance. He has a responsibility towards his students. A duty he cannot forget for momentary things.

And yet, he swallows as she steps closer to him. His heart speeds up as pink lips curl in a smirk, eyes alight with mischief. It takes him a moment to realise the bell has rung - he dismissed the class few minutes back. She is still there.

"Mr. Smith?" A small laugh, "Are you alright, sir?"

There is something about the way she voices his name, like wrapping it up in warmth and something so subtle that he can't define it. All he can do is bask in it. And dread it at the same time.

He clears his suddenly dry throat, picking his notes before leaving the room, "Yes. Just perfect. Thank you for your concern, Ms. Kingston. Shouldn't you be heading back home now?"

Another smile, a chuckle as she follows him out, falling in steps beside him, "You forgot, Mr. Smith, didn't you? We have drama rehearsals today."

He mentally curses himself. Its his turn to oversee the rehearsals for school play. Matt lets out an embarrassed laugh, "Yes. Yes, I think it slipped my mind. I trust you're prepared, Ms. Kingston?"

"Alex", she shakes her head, correcting him, "There is no need to be so formal with me, Mr. Smith. Or, with any of us. None of the other teachers are."

"Yes, well", he breaths a sigh of relief as the staff room door enters his view, "I shall see you in an hour, Ms. Kingston."

She crinkles her nose, her tongue peeking out briefly, "ALEX."

He only laughs as the door closes behind him.  _That girl will surely be his death some day._

There is nothing spectacular about the rehearsal itself. Every thing is just as it should be. For most part.

One of the scenes calls for a kiss between the leads. While their hero is far too eager for the kiss, Alex seems a bit hesitant, backing out every time they try to redo the scene. 

The scene itself is inconsequential and can be easily removed; its Alex's hesitation that intrigues him. She is usually very confident and bold in every thing she does. Concerned, he looks for her after they are done. Angry pacing in the green room catches his attention.

"Ms. Kings-", he shakes his head - the girl looks annoyed with herself and moment calls for comforting - quickly amending himself, he knocks lightly on the door, "Everything alright, Alex?"

The curious smile on her face tells him he has surprised her. Leaning against the door frame, he folds his arms, a warm and patient smile in place as he waits for her to speak.

"I can't- I-" she pauses in her steps, flopping down on the stool in front of the make up table, huffs and gives him a small smile, "You'll think I'm silly."

"Silly?" laughing softly, he walks up to her and casually leans against the dressing table --something in her eyes pulls him towards itself-- "You are anything but silly, Ms. Kingston."

"And you were doing so good up till now."

He begins to frown, chuckling when he realises what she is talking about. "My apologies. It takes some time to get used to changes", he studies the fluttering of her curls as she shakes her head, "Now are you going to tell me what was wrong there?"

She looks at him from under her lashes, "Only if you promise to believe me, and not tell anyone about it."

He laughs uneasily, sobering up but when she looks at him seriously. "I promise".

"I have never been kissed before. I don't know how to kiss", she heaves a sigh, "Go on. Laugh at me."

A thought niggles at the back of his mind, gone before he can even grasp it. "Why would I laugh at you, Alex? It's your choice and it doesn't make you any less in my eyes."

She offers him a relieved smile, but only for a moment, "Yes, but that doesn't solve the problem of the scene!"

It's dangerous. He is like a moth and she is a flame, more than capable of burning him. If he isn't careful, he might do something he'll regret later--

"I can teach you how to kiss, if you want, Ms. Kingston."

He regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth. He is easily twice her age --her teacher! He could lose his job over a momentary weakness.

The slap never comes.

Her broad grin and the twinkling eyes should be a warning enough, but his heart seems to have developed wings, fluttering and pounding in his chest in a mad rhythm. "You will? I'd love it, Mr. Smith. Thank you."

It's not until she is expertly stroking his tongue and exploring him with a distinct thoroughness, that he realises who is teaching whom. She is an actress and he is an idiot.

He pulls away with great effort, gasping while there are hints of a rather smug smile playing across her swollen lips. Barely managing to suppress the desire to kiss her again, he pushes her away. "You said you don't know how to kiss?!"

Alex shrugs, running her fingers through her curls, "What can I say, you are a really good teacher, sir. And I'm a quick learner."

The purr in her voice makes him want to do unspeakable things to her, and if she continues to look at him like that, may be he will. There is no doubt left in his mind. He has to be incredibly careful around her, or she will burn him.

He tries to will the heat rising inside him to subside, "That you certainly are, Ms. Kingston."

She hums and steps closer, pouting at him, "But I don't think I have still got it. Shall we try again?"

He is tempted to say yes. Damn the entire world, her lips are glistening, blue green irises now a dark colour, and its all because of him. "No. I think that was enough, Ms. Kingston."

"But, sir-"

"No, Ms. Kingston", he repeats firmly, "Go home. Your parents are probably wondering where you are."

Matt feels her breathy sigh send a shivering sensation dance down his spine, and nervously smiles. Her eyes scan him, bolder than ever, as she begins to gather her things. A smirk as she glances at him over her shoulder, "And I'm 18, Mr. Smith. Only 14 years younger than you. And I know where your eyes are."

\---x---

He isn't jealous. No. A part of him feels relieved. 

Matt smiles and greets the students all around him-- the graduating batch-- his eyes trained particularly on the different pairs dancing on the floor, and on those who aren't. His glance shifts to the pair nearest to the refreshment table. The boy gives him a polite, if cold, smile, his arm around his partner.

And then there is Alex. Resplendent in a short red dress and a mass of brown curls, half pinned and half tumbling down her shoulders, she looks almost ethereal. 

After the kiss in the green room, he had tried his best to avoid any more such moments. Avoiding interaction with Alex was impossible --she was his student, a member, one of the bests, of the little drama club they had-- he chose the next best option. But it hasn't been the easiest. Alex is kind, generous, quick witted when she needs to be, and possesses a wicked sense of humour. And so very determined when she sets her eyes on something.

He has no doubt that at least for a while, that something was him. She was there at every turn --with those smiles and all knowing gaze, studying him like she could read every sinful thought going through his mind when she was around. Who knows, may be she actually could. 

Only in past few months he has felt her attentions find a new mark-- the young man next to her.

He is definitely not jealous. Not in the least bit envious of the kisses she bestows upon the boy.

And yet, a hiss claws up his throat when the boy pulled her closer, looking like an arrogant pillock. _Does he know how kissing his Ms. Kingston feels? How it feels when those soft, warm lips part under his lips?_

When he spots the young couple sneaking out hand-in-hand, it feels like someone is twisting his gut. 

He makes his excuses, determined to leave before he has to watch the young couple any more. The realisation, he is jealous of a teenager over another teenager --no, a young woman-- is nearly suffocating. 

Stepping out, Matt takes a deep breath. Thankfully its only a matter of few hours. Next term will bring new faces, older ones moving on to different things. Ms. Kingston, a promising actress, will probably enroll in some drama school.

Even the relieving thought leaves a pang behind. He is happy for her. He only hopes that her cheeky bugger of a boyfriend treats her better. 

Matt is half way across the parking lot when the noises begin to register. He dismisses them as amorous students at first, thinking nothing of it until the angry words of Ms. Kingston reach him. 

He knows he shouldn't interfere-- it's an issue between the young couple-- but when has his good sense ever worked around Ms. Kingston? His eyes widen, anger flooding his body as he spots the boy corner her, blocking her exit, his intentions abundantly clear in his body language.

It takes him a moment to decide, but before he can do anything, Alex slaps the boy hard across his cheek before pushing him away. Matt quickly extends his palm towards her, offering her a reassuring smile when she looks up at him nervously. He can feel her shaking - partly because of the situation, and partly because of the chill in the air- and takes off his coat, draping it over her shoulders. 

"That", she lets out a shaky laugh, "was very movie-esque."

He hums in agreement. "Art imitates life. But this isn't any movie, Ms. Kingston. You should press charges against that boyfriend of yours."

She shrugs, her fingers curling into the coat and pulling it tighter around her self. "It's getting late", he offers at her silence, "Let me walk you home, Ms. Kingston."

"You do realise I am capable of walking back home, myself?"

"I know", he smiles as she falls in steps beside him, a little closer than before, "I know you are more than capable, Ms. Kingston. I'll sleep easy knowing you're safe."

She glances at him from the corner of her eyes, a small, knowing smile playing across her lips, "I can't say no to that, now."

He laughs softly, "I hope not. I'll be very hurt if you did."

For a while, neither speaks as they walk in amicable silence. She sighs when they reach her house-- an emotion he echos, "Here we are."

He looks up with a smile, "Ah. So it seems." Feeling her eyes on him, he turns to her, his smile firmly in place. 

There is a hesitation in her voice as she smiles back at him. "When can I hope to see you again? "

Matt smiles down at her, pulling her closer and presses a kiss in her curls, "Good night, Ms. Kingston."

There is that crinkle again. "I am not your student now, you know."

"Go home, Ms. Kingston", he shakes his head with a small laugh, "Your parents are probably wondering where you are."

In a move that stuns him, she places her palm on his hand, and leaning up on het toes, brushes her lips against the corner of his lips. "Good night, Mr. Smith."

Her heels click against the gravel as she crosses the driveway, but the loud thudding of his heart drowns the sound. Heat courses through him. A simple peck shouldn't be having this kind of effect on him. 

She turns to look at him before opening the door, a smile on her lips, "And Pete isn't my boyfriend, sir."

_His Ms. Kingston_


End file.
